Chasing the Void
by thegeekpatrol
Summary: After the events of Thanos, Peter Parker has returned to his regular life. For the most part, he's done well, but there's something calling him. Something he's chasing, subconsciously. Pretty much, my poor baby is going through hell after events and I want to make him suffer more. I'm not exactly sure how graphic it will be, but story may cover suicidal thoughts-just a warning.
1. Chapter 1

_There was pain. Pain. Coursing throughout. Pain burning and racing and spreading. Screaming and begging for attention. It stopped begging, and demanded. It demanded to be seen, to be felt. It demanded to be present. It smiled and screamed all at the same time. Until finally, it stopped._

 _Then there was the falling. The pain wasn't there, but something was. Uneasiness. A pit. And there was nothing. Too much of nothing. It clung to the air and crept into , falling, falling. Weightless, yet complete heaviness. Emptiness._

 _The sinking began slowly. But it was noticed quickly. Panic ensued. Heaviness. No strength, complete submission to the sinking. The pace increased. The sinking continued, faster- heavier- stronger- panic._

 _Finally… the peace. The pain washed away, the falling over, and the sinking finished. There wasn't any emptiness, nor was there heaviness. There was breathing, open full breath. There was blissfully nothing. And everything._

Peter jolted to consciousness. Everything became sharper, clearer. He became aware of his breathing. It was panicked. Peter willed himself to calm down. His eyes made their way to his alarm clock. 4:30. He knew he couldn't go back to sleep now. He had 3 hours until he needed to go to school. May would be at an early shift right now, so Peter decided to patrol. On with his suit, and out of his window, Peter set to patrol the streets of Queens.

"Karen, is there any crime happening in Queens?" Peter asked his AI.

"According to police radio and new reports, there is no crime in Queens."

"Ahh, I'm so bored! There's seriously nothing? This is like, the perfect time for criminals! No one's even awake!" Peter complained to, well, himself, really.

"I'm sorry, Peter. I'm sure someone will do something illegal soon." Karen replied.

"God, I hope so!... I mean I don't! Crime's bad. I know that, I'm just... bored."

"Peter, you've got an incoming call from Tony Stark."

"What? Why? I-uh- Hi, Mr. Stark!"

"Kid it's like 5 in the morning. Why is Spider-Man out on patrol?" Tony's voice spoke through the speaker.

"What? I just couldn't sleep- how do you know, anyways?" Peter asked.

"You do remember that your suit has a tracker in it?" Tony mocked.

"Does it alert you whenever I put it on?" Peter tensed at the thought, "Cuz that's a little weird."

"No, kid. There's a map with the tracker on it in my lab. I glanced and noticed it." Tony casually said.

"So, you're chastising me for being up, when you're literally in your lab? Mr. Stark, I don't think that's fair." Peter tried to reason.

"Who's the adult/billionaire? When you're an adult/billionaire, you can do whatever you want at 5 in the morning. Til then, you need to sleep like a regular person."

"Well, I'm not exactly a regular person, am I?" Peter said, as he spotted a man with a gun entering a store.

He swung down to the doors as Tony began talking, "If anything, you need more sleep. You burn calories like 7 times as fast as most people. You need sleep to recover from what you're doing."

"Yeah, yeah I hear that…" Peter watched the man pull his gun on the cashier and charged in the store, slinging a web and taking the gun from the man. "It's just that... " The man quickly drew another gun on the cashier. "Hey, that's not fair! You're not supposed to have two! Where did you even pull that from?"

"Police have been notified, Peter, and will be here in 8 minutes." Karen said in her calm voice.

"I'm sorry…? Are you in the middle of something? Is now not a good time?" Tony sarcastically asked Peter.

"No, no. It's fine, I'm listening! I'm a good multi-tasker!" He said as he webbed the robber's hand and pulled him towards the counter, smacking his head against it. "I was going to say that I've just been having a hard time sleeping lately, that's all." He felt something behind him and turned in time to see another man pull a gun.

"Holy shit, two of you? And to rob just one store? That's a little sad, if I'm honest. Oof!" Peter said, nearly getting hit with a bullet, dodging it just in time.

"You good there, Petey?" Tony tried to ask casually, but clearly caring.

"Oh, I'm just getting a little workout." Peter said, jumping to the ceiling. "You know, a before school workout. Gotta stay in shape."

Robber #1, as Peter decided to call him, angrily yelled at #2 to 'kill him' or something. Peter laughed.

"Oh, I'd love that, guy. But, listen. It's like 5:00! There's nothing in the register! How crappy of a robber do you have to be to rob a store with 2 guys at 5 in the morning in a poor neighborhood?"

A bullet grazed his shoulder. "Oh, man! You're not here for the fun, are you? Okay, I'll get this over with." Peter webbed #2 up and then to #1.

He turned to the cashier. "You okay?" The young man nodded fearfully. "Good. Police will be here in… oh, 6 minutes to pick them up. Don't worry, that stuff lasts a few hours. I gotta go!"

Peter ran out the doors and slung up to a nearby building. "Mr. Stark, you still there?"

"Peter, you have one injury on your left shoulder. I advise seeking medical attention." Karen's voice rang through Peter's head.

"Did you get hit?" Tony immediately asked.

"Ah, it barely touched me. I can pretty much just get a bandaid on it and it'll be fine by tomorrow morning." He was sliding his sleeve down to look at the wound.

"Are you lying to me? Because if you're lying, I'm gonna kick your ass."

"I'm not lying! I'm being honest, I swear."

"You're trying too hard, Parker."

"It really isn't bad. It's already starting to heal up." A lie, but Peter didn't want to go to the hospital today. Plus, May had a few medical things available for Peter at home.

"Fine. Let's talk about your sleeping problems."

"D-Do we need to do that? I don't think it's, like, a pressing issue." Peter said, grimacing in pain as he swung towards his apartment.

"When did it start?" Tony sincerely asked.

Peter froze, which considering that he was mid-swing was probably a mistake. He, however, didn't realize this until he had hit a building with a loud yelp.

"Did you just hit a building?" Tony snickered.

"Uh, no! I did not, I slightly miscalculated, that's all." He was nearly home, just a few buildings away. He finally reached the roof of his building and sat for a few moments catching his breath.

"So… when did it start?" Tony asked.

"Man, we're still on this? It… happened after… after Thanos, I guess." Peter said, shrugging it off. Again, not a great idea on his part- he'd just been shot in the shoulder.

"Oh. Well, uh… you can talk to me about it whenever you want. You know that, right?" Tony said, trying to turn on his nurturing voice. It wasn't fully developed yet.

"Yeah, of course, Mr. Stark. I know I can. And I'm fine, really. I just don't sleep as much anymore, that's all." Peter said, feeling panic rising in his chest. "Listen, Mr. Stark, I gotta go. I need to clean up this little… scrape on my shoulder and finish some homework."

"Okay, kid. Just… be careful. Don't be stupid- I mean…"

"I get it, Mr. Stark. Don't do anything you would do."

"Exactly. Later, Pete."

Peter let out a sigh of relief. _Glad that conversation's over._ Peter started feel the panic rise again. He entered his bedroom through the window.

"Peter, you're heart rate is at high levels. Are you distressed?"

"No, Karen! I'm fine. And **don't** tell Mr. Stark. He doesn't need to know literally every little scrape and bruise I get."

He took his suit off and looked at his wound. _It's not too bad…_ He told himself. He went to the closet with medical supplies with bandages and disinfectants. He cleaned his injury and bandaged it. Peter put everything back in the closet so that May didn't notice. He did not need her noticing right now. She had been under a lot of stress lately. And it was pretty much all from him.

Peter went back to his bedroom to put on his suit. He eyed his most recent suit that Tony had made him- his Iron-Spider suit. Peter went to grab it, and suddenly, he wasn't in his bedroom.

 _Empty and cold. Wind was felt, yet it wasn't there. Falling, falling, falling. Sinking. Slowly sinking. Finally, peace. Then, pain. Excruciating pain. Mind-bending, heart stopping, body reducing pain._

Peter finally took in a breath. ' _You're back. You're safe. You're okay'_ , he told himself. Peter dropped the suit and turned to his older one. Sure, the Iron Spider suit was bulletproof and a hell of a lot cooler, but he could manage with the older one- bullet holes and all. Peter put the suit on, excluding his mask and got ready for school.

After an exhausting day at school, Peter finally made it home. He knew he needed sleep, but the thought of it filled him with dread. He hadn't been able to have a restful sleep without the same nightmares as he used to. He changed into casual clothes and started inspecting his wound from earlier. It had started its healing process, but wasn't healing as quickly is it should've been. Peter decided to put that in the back of his mind and watch some TV.

Ten minutes later, he got a text from Happy. _Grab your suit. I'll be there in 25 minutes._

"Yes!" Peter pumped his fist in the air. This day had just been full of bad decisions because that very much hurt his arm. He ignored it and went to grab his suit. Again, he looked to both his regular and Iron Spider suit. He didn't think that he could wear his Iron Spider suit, but he didn't want to disappoint Tony, so he shoved both in his backpack and waiting the 25 minutes. He saw Happy's car and made his way to the street.

His stomach flipped, and he felt a dull pressure in the back of his head. He quickly checked his surroundings. A force gripped his collar and threw him to the ground. His vision started fading.

"What the hell?" He blurted out before blinking and clearing his vision. There was nothing. He ran towards the car, opening the passenger door. "Happy, help! They're-" A middle-aged man smiled at Peter when blunt pain pierced Peter's skull- and then, there was nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N:

I'm garbage. I'm a bad person. I have no excuse. I'd abandoned this, and then I hadn't.

Anyway, I kinda came up with a garbage shit explanation for Endgame, which will come in the next chapter (?) (If I add one, which going of my record, it doesn't look so hot)

Anyways, I didn't really, um, proofread this, and it was written over several (and I mean several) months where I didn't really read for consistency, so if it doesn't make sense, just know that I'm garbage and also illiterate, and you'll understand, maybe.

K, bye! 3

 _The harsh colors flooded Peter's mind, flowing through every corner and height. A dusty film covered Peter, warming his icy skin. He gasped and jumped to his feet, looking at his surroundings._ _**No, no**_ _, he thought._ _ **Not again, not this time. God, no**_ _. He tried to shout out, but there was no air- only sand. He couldn't breathe. Peter choked and gasped and heaved, and the sand continued to pour through his mouth, nose, eyes and ears._ _ **Help. Please, help me.**_ _He choked out._

 _Suddenly, strong hands pulled Peter away. He caught a glimpse of Ben._ _ **How? What are you doing here?**_ _Ben smiled. And let go._

 _ **Ben? What are you doing? Help me!**_ _The sand consumed him, once again._ _ **I can't, Pete. You know why.**_

Peter woke, to realize he was holding his breath. He forced himself to take a breath and then another. With a racing heart and throbbing head, Peter pried his eyes open and took in his situation:

He was in a somewhat dimly lit room. Immediately, his eyes went to the nearby desk with an array of tools. Several weapons to choose hands were bound by some kind of metal chord and tied to the chair he sat on. The chair was bolted to the concrete ground, along with the chains tying his feet down. He tried to tense against the chord, and a jolt of pain ran through his veins to his shoulder. He dragged his head to look at his shoulder, and the deep purple skin filled with infection made him gag, turning into a coughing fit.

"Finally awake, huh? What, do bugs need more sleep than the rest of us?" A man approached Peter from a dark corner of the room with a knife.

"It's arachnids, actually. And spiders don't sleep- they just rest." Peter quipped, struggling to raise his head.

"Excuse me?" His tone became hostile, bringing the knife to Peter's chin.

Peter stared at the knife. "I meant no disrespect, I just wanted to let you know." Peter offhandedly said and brought his eyes to the man.

"Okay, smartass. Tell me this: why hasn't Stark paid your ransom yet?" A drop of blood fell from Peter's broken skin.

"Probably doesn't think I'm worth more than $50, man. I'm just a broke kid from Queens!"

"A broke kid from Queens? With two several-million-dollar suits? That's the wrong answer." The man said, raising the knife for a more damaging strike.

 _The suits! They had trackers in them! He just needed to stall._

"Listen! I was just a shitty investment of his, that's all! He thought I'd become, like, an Avenger."

"An Avenger? You?" The man scoffed, while, to Peter's relief, bringing the knife to his side.

"Eventually, yeah! Listen, dude. I clearly did not become an Avenger. I think at this point, Mr. Stark is just going to cut his losses- which means he's not going to pay whatever ransom you've asked."

"Hmm, I just don't think that's true. I think that you're lying to me, Mr. Parker. Lying isn't going to bode well for you."

"And the truth will? It's not like you're gonna kill your leverage." Peter feigned confidence and apathy.

"No. I won't. Instead..." The man grazed the knife over Peter's hand, "I'll break your fingers… one at a time."

"Yikes." Peter commented.

"Then, I'll destroy your kneecaps." He said, bringing the knife to his knees.

"Gross." His jaw clenched.

"And finally, I'll strangle you- deprive you of oxygen just long enough to make you pass out. Long enough to chip away at your sanity. Over and over again."

"Kinky."

The man grabbed Peter by the collar, spitting on his face,"That's it, you little bitch! I'm going-"

"That's enough, Max. We don't want to damage our goods too quickly." Peter hadn't even noticed the man enter- the man he recognized from the car.

Max shoved Peter and backed off, letting the newcomer approach Peter.

"Ooh, he listens to you. Are you the boss?"

"Yes. Vincent. Good to see you awake."

"How long was I asleep?" Peter asked.

"Not long. 18 hours, maybe." Vincent

"It's been 18 hours? Well, I think by now, you guys should realize that Mr. Stark isn't going to pay a ransom. It's not like he's looking to find the money- he has it, he just doesn't care." _God, I hope I'm wrong._ Peter was thinking. _I hope he's on his way._

"Well, in his defense, he didn't know you were missing for the first few hours. As soon as he realized, he had to track your suit. And then realize that we'd taken the tracker out- just so he knows who he's dealing with."

"A few low-level thugs looking for early retirement? He's dealt with your kind before."

"Maybe so for people like Max. But I can assure you, he's not dealt with anything like myself. I'm not in it for the money, that's just a bonus."

"Oh, you must be the hacker. I hate to tell you, but I don't think Mr. Stark's going to hire you, no matter how much you impress."

"The hacking is what I needed Max for. I promised him the ransom."

"What does someone like you want, then? The tech? Control? Revenge? God, if it's revenge, I'll be so disappointed. I'm just so bored of that narrative, man."

Vincent studied his face."You died, didn't you?"

A knot formed in Peter's stomach. "Sorry?"

"When everybody died. You did, too. You were one of the half."

"So? There were lots of people who died. Literally half of... everyone." _No air, choking._ Peter tried to push the thoughts out.

"And Tony Stark saved them all. Earth's 'greatest' hero." Vincent said, his voice dripping with anger.

"Mr. Stark _is_ Earth's greatest hero!"

"Well, it's good to know that you have faith in me, Peter." Tony's disembodied voice sounded throughout the room. _Thank God, oh, thank God._ Relief spilled throughout Peter's body. Iron Man stood in the doorway, his battle-stance ready. "Alright, I'm taking the kid with me. Anybody who says otherwise gets a blast from my friend here." He said, indicating to his right blaster. "Any questions?"

Vincent growled, "Tony Stark. It's taken you long enough. Here to pick up your little friend here?"

"Why, yes, I am. Now, if you'll please, I'd rather not have to pay for the cleanup of this place."

"We're not going to give up the kid without our pay." Max laughed. Peter heard the click and felt the cool end of a barrel at his temple.

"You think I've come here to pay your ransom? You seriously think that I… Iron Man came here to pay you money? Which one of us is in a supersuit?" Tony's snarky tone apparent, even through the mechanical voice.

"I think that you ain't gonna shoot me fast enough to stop me from shooting him. I want my money, Stark." Max insisted.

"My money. You want **my** money. Unfortunately for you, I won't give you a single penny of it. If you give me the kid now, we can all forget about this whole situation."

"If you think-" Max was cut off by Vincent.

"We don't care about the money. I want you."

"That's both tempting and flattering, but I have to say no. The kid."

"Quite the wit you've got there Stark. There are many things I remember about you, and your ability to be arrogant is one of the stronger impressions. But that's not why I remember you."

"What—did I beat you in a game of poker?"

"You took everything. You took my wife. You took my son. I used to admire you, y'know? I thought, 'That is a selfless man. He may be arrogant, but he helps others, he fixes things.'". Vincent let out a soft laugh, which betrayed the malice in his eyes. "But you're not selfless. You think you fix things, but instead you breed problems."

"Honestly, I don't care about that right now. Right now, I want the kid, and—" An explosive sound pounded in Peter's ears. His eyes rolled back for a second, but he willed himself to stay conscious. He focused his vision back to Tony, to see a hole blasted through his suit, through to the other side. Peter held back a scream. The suit stayed afloat for a moment, and collapsed just as quickly.

"MR. STARK! Mr… Mr. Stark! No, no, no—get up. Get up, it- it's okay. Mr. Stark, PLEASE!" Peter didn't even know what he was saying, the panic was setting in.

It was silent. Everything seemed to be colorless and muted. A glance to Vincent and the large enhanced gun he held put a sob in Peter that he had to stifle back.

"Vincent. That… that was our ticket to the ransom. I had things under control!" Max stepped toward Vincent in a heated manner, "Why would you—" Another shot. This time, the impact was strong enough to send Max into the wall; blood and drywall seemed to be everywhere.

"His usefulness was at an end, unfortunately for him. He failed to hack any further into the Stark system, and honestly, I was getting tired of him—as I'm sure you were." Vincent nonchalantly said, and made his way to Tony, grabbing a crowbar on a nearby desk. He pried the mask off of the suit.

Peter thought he'd feel something devastating when he saw Tony's face. And maybe he would have if it had actually been Tony's face. Instead, a strange, slightly-off face laid before Peter. He stared at it, wondering if maybe the 'dead' factor was what was making it so off. Vincent looked from Peter to Tony and back to Peter. An annoyed little smile crept across his visage.

"I can never seem to get the faces right." He simply said and let out an exasperated sigh. "I don't know, maybe it's just the proportions? I never was good at drawing faces, I guess if I can't quite picture a face exactly the way it is, it comes out… like that." He looked back to Tony. "A shame. I mean, I really had the voice down. I even had the—the personality down, well, until the end, I think I went a little 'out of character' there." Vincent rambled on, and Peter let himself shut down for a moment, tuned out his voice. _It wasn't real. It wasn't real. Everything's fine._

"Peter, are you… ignoring me?" Vincent scoffed. "I don't like that." He stepped towards Peter. "I don't like that at all." He was inches from his face, and he must have seen the fear in Peter's eyes because he let out a side smile. "Peter, tell me. You and Tony Stark… there's a relationship there. I'd go so far to say a mentor/mentee relationship. Maybe even more. You've lost your father, and your uncle. I did my research on you, you know. Stark… he's become a father figure to you, hasn't he?"

Peter didn't answer. Vincent clearly didn't like it.

"Of course, you still have your lovely Aunt May. She's still taking care of you. Oh, I bet she's worried sick. I'm sure she's crying in your little apartment, or maybe at the Avenger's Compound, being kept under watch—for safety. How hard do you think it would be to get into that compound? I mean, with my abilities? Hell, if I had some time, and focused really hard on the face, I could pretend to be Captain America! Surely, May would trust Captain America to take her safely to her beloved nephew?"

"Leave her alone." Peter growled.

"What was that?" Vincent innocently asked.

"Leave her alone! Don't TOUCH her!" He wrangled in his bindings, and again the wound on his shoulder shot through him, leaving him breathless.

"It's strange... that injury just won't heal, will it? All the other injuries I've given you have healed nicely. I'll bet that accelerated healing is handy. But you know what? I quite like it, too. You see… when you really want to hurt someone…"

"You mean torture?" Peter spit out.

"Aah, now, I don't love that word: torture. It just seems so cliche. Then again, life is made up of cliches. So yes, I guess you're correct. When you're torturing someone, the first rule is restraint. You can't hurt them to the point where they pass out, or die. You can't give them too many wounds that will kill, unless you've already gotten what you want. That's why I _love_ your accelerated healing. I can hurt you so much more than I could anyone else."


	3. AN

This story is on an indefinite hiatus, sorry. I realized that I hate the writing in it. Sorry folks. Thanks to all who read and commented, I really appreciate it!


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